Stitched
by Aila Shae
Summary: When a girl is being labeled as insane after the brutal murders of her parents, and is admitted to Suna's leading mental illness facility, a young doctor, with only a couple years of experience, is given the case no one else could even hope to treat- or solve. What Gaara fails to realize is that she is not only going to make or break his career, but also his sanity. Gaa/Saku
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Under Revisions as of 1/18/16- Just for minor spelling errors, grammatical issues, etc. No changes to the storyline will be made. Thank you for reading!**

* * *

"_We are all insane, all of us, unique perceptions of our own creation… yet. We also created normality."_

* * *

_**Patient Records**_

_Facility # 6_

_Patient #0786_

_Age:19_

_Birthdate: Unknown_

_Gender: F_

_Level: 7_

_Disorders: Schizophrenia, Major Anthropophobia, Insomniatic, Agoraphobic_

Document Date: 12/21/2011

Kinari Oshenka, assumes the name 'Sakura' and the Surname, 'Haruno.' She refuses to understand or accept that she is, in fact, Kinari. Blood tests have come in by court order, confirming her parents as Kenai Oshenka (father/unknown) and Mari Oshenka (mother/deceased). No other relatives have been confirmed biologically. The subject has no siblings, cousins, or other ancestry to go by. From what examiners have gathered at Facility # 9, the subject is, "…Basing her own reality upon fiction, of which she is the author of… has been seen to write stories, some short, others long novels, and in these stories, she depicts a girl, by the name of Sakura Haruno. Haruno, as described in these writings, is about her own height, has emerald green eyes, and vibrant pink hair. The subject has frequently died her hair, and we have originally concluded this may be in attempt to focus perspective of Haruno as herself. The subjects Schizophrenic-like behavior is based around the stories, which, in some, the main character is killed in the end. Restraints are necessary if behavior exhibited can be dangerous to the subject. Intenisty varies…" The report by Dr. Nara confirms rising suspicion about the sanity of such a girl, and the acts committed- the murder of her mother, and perhaps the father, were not done out of malice. The Hokage of the Supreme Court Committee has sent the subject to Suna treatment facility #6, to be overseen by experts here.

Gaara's eyes flickered over the paper once, twice, and then again. Though it was just one of many set before him, the large stack containing a series of records based around this one patient… Dozens of testimonies from doctors, nurses, all experts in their own specific fields- all of which were positioned around neuroscience and mental health.

After growing up with a bad case of insomnia and some schizophrenic impulses, Gaara Saihara had devoted the rest of his life to helping others with the same illness as he had, and this girl, he hoped, would be no different. At the age of 22, he was one of the youngest in his profession, but because he was new to it, the senior doctors liked to throw the patients of which they couldn't properly diagnose or really do anything for.

Such was the case with Kinari Oshenka, despite the odds, Gaara was set, focused, and ready. Nothing she did would surprise him… Or so he told himself.

So he thought.

He didn't realize that, in taking on this girl, he was also taking on solving the murders of the Oshenka family line, and the Haruno family line as well…

Maybe even gain a little bit of her insanity along the way.

The tall, pale, red head walked through the winding halls of the establishment, the stack of papers neatly tucked into a manila folder which he held beneath his arm snuggly. The young mans' hair was messy, at one spot on his forehead it was purposely smoothed over to try and cover a red kanji tattoo he had gotten during his younger years while he suffered from schizophrenic outbursts; something he was definitely beginning to regret.

He wore a plain, long sleeved black shirt beneath a paper white lab coat, which proudly held his name written on the front left breast pocket, where a couple pens were also finding shelter. His shoes were just regular white sneakers, along to match with the white pants.

The door to Kinari's room felt as if it was shrinking with every step, and soon, Gaara realized how nervous he was. But why? He had stayed up all night, reading over her papers, which was just a collection of jumbled reports from doctors who really had no clue what to diagnose her on, except-

Except… he was nervous because if he could help her… If he could somehow change her behavior for the better… Something his colleagues could not.

Then Gaara would not only be looked upon with respect for once, but it would make his career as well. And if he couldn't… he would have absolutely no chance at all. He would be the janitor for the others mistaken diagnoses'.

This girl was going to either set him for life, or break it in half like a toothpick. That alone was plenty to be nervous about.

His hand was sweaty, gripping the handle to the door and pushing. It didn't move. What? Oh. Use the keycard… Right. Good. The resounding click means its open… You can push now…

* * *

_Of all the ways I could have been killed. Of all the enemies, all of the rollercoasters I've ridden for that adrenaline rush, the hiking spent in the mountains, all that time spent thousands of feet above ground in an airplane…_

_Why is this how I'm going to die?_

_Or is it, that I'm already dead?  
_

_It all started about three years ago, when my parents realized, I, Sakura Haruno, was in fact, mentally ill._

_Insane._

_Everyone here knows what "mentally ill" means. It means you're crazy, you were dropped on your head a little too much as an infant, or-_

_Moving on. Here's a little guide to insanity. Or how about, "Surviving in Suna?"_

"_Surviving in Facility 6?" No! Just "Facility 6"…? Yea._

_I like that. Has a nice ring to it, besides, it is what we'll be discussing anyhow. Now lets begin… _

_The last doctor told me that this new guy was an old friend of his, he said "play nice." I don't play nice… Shikamaru was an asshole anyway. So whats with this Gaara dude? Whats so special about him?_

_I'm not crazy. They just don't understand. I know whats really happening out there… The problem isn't in here. Its outside. It's not me. It's them. It's not me…_

_It's happening again._

_Shikamaru? Why are you leaving?_

_I don't want to have to see someone new… I just got used to you. They all scare me. They're old… they have this mean, cold look in their eyes, and I feel like He's there. He's watching me._

_Shikamaru?_

_Shika…._

_Can you hear me? Please?_

_I don't want to die._

-Click-

"Shikamaru…?" There was a sudden shift in the rooms atmosphere, the pink haired girl turning around slightly in the only chair provided to her, a pencil and notebook resting in her lap.

A head of dark red hair began to inch its way into the room.

"NO! NO NO NO! NOOO! WHERE'S SHIKAMARU! STAY AWAY FROM ME!" The book was thrown at the door, and it's utterly shocked occupant. The screams coming from the small girls throat did not match her size or seem to even fit her voice at all. He took in a deep breath, doing exactly what Shikamaru's notes had instructed him. He remained calm, and he held his ground.

But above all else, he remained perfectly silent. Opening the door only enough to fit inside, before allowing it to close with another click, the sound of the lock sealing them both in.

Followed by more screaming. "I SAID STAY AWAY! GET OUT! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!" Another item was thrown, the pencil this time, though she had a terrible aim and it bounced off the door behind Gaara harmlessly.

_Just do as Shika told you… Calm, Silent, reserved… You can do that._

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Gaara was just thankful the walls in this building were soundproof.


	2. Chapter 2

**"_She sits in her corner… Singing herself to sleep. Wrapped in all of the promises, that no one seems to keep. And still she sings…"_**

* * *

"I told you! STAY AWAY!" Gaara had hardly even managed to enter one foot into the room, let alone take any stride towards the pink haired victim.

By now, she had backed herself into one of the soft corners of the room, stuffed into the white wall, holding up the chair as a means of self-defense. That might actually hurt if she threw it…

He suddenly disregarded what Shikamaru had previously explained about keeping his mouth shut, and, as these things normally went, he introduced himself.

"I'm not here to harm you, my name-"

"I SAID NO!" Another scream, and the chair, that poor wooden chair, was tossed forward. The girl began to cry, sobbing wildly and collapsing onto the ground, hugging her knees up to her chest. The tears fell in a steady stream, causing the white top she wore to gain grayish marks. At least the screaming part was over, but she was still staring at him, like a hurt animal.

He had that distinct feeling of having kicked a puppy, and was now regretting that decision. Though the action where this regret was directed to, he had no idea.

"Listen, Sakura, right?" Shikamaru, in one of their many letters and emails back and forth, had warned him time and time again to only call her by her fictional name, why? He had yet to decipher. Shikamaru had once hinted at the name not being fictional at all, but he couldn't exactly pull it out of it's origins.

Sakura stared at him, her eyes so dead and afraid… yet, so alive at the same time, with a fiery passion to not give up. As if she was still screaming at him like a banshee, but this time, with her optics instead of her vocal cords.

Gaara took in a breath, made a mental note to control himself, to not make any overly excited or quick movements.

_Do exactly as you were told… Treat her like a deer… _

Remembering Shikamaru's words, Gaara slowly, and carefully reached into his pocket. Sakura's eyes widened but she didn't say anything, scooting back, if possible, even further into the wall. His fingers hooked onto a suitable prize, pulling it out of hiding: a package of gummy bears.

Sakura paused to watch him, her breathing even seemed to stop, which was beginning to freak Gaara out. This girl obviously had a lot of problems, but she wouldn't forget to breathe, would she?

Could one even forget to breathe?

_Don't be silly… unless her medulla stops functioning correctly…_

He took a mental note to set up some more MRI scans of her brain. But it seemed that they would have a long way to go before he would be able to get her to voluntarily lay down and be still enough for the scan to commence, and he couldn't have it done by force, not if he wanted her to trust him.

Turning to the old, don't bite the hand that feeds you, act, Gaara took a few steps forward, surprisingly, there was no more protest. Not even a squeak, or barely a flinch, just the constant following of her emerald gaze locked onto his every movement.

More specifically, the movements of his hand, and the package of assorted gummy bears.

He knelt down several feet away from her, lightly shaking the plastic bag, as her interest seemed to peak, he couldn't help but smile. A bad move, the artificially haired girl squeaked, tucking her face away behind her knees.

That was when Gaara was shocked for the second time that day: she was far too skinny. Her legs nothing but bones. It took him a while to piece it together, of what could have led her to ignoring her food.

Then it seemed to click, she lived off a book. In books, how often do you read about the characters eating three full meals a day? Then again… What was this girl writing about?

His gaze dropped down to the gummy bears, a solemn look claiming his gaze. He wasn't being fair to her. She was hungry, starved, even, and here he was, not even being here for five minutes and he was teasing her with candy.

_Do not stand or tower over her…_

Shikamaru's voice undoubtedly, it was thanks to him that Gaara had even gotten this far, and for that, he was grateful. The first step in the healing process is trust, and then diagnosis. Treatment and recovery, especially for Sakura, would have to come later.

He broke open the package of bears, and he set it down before her, she was still refusing to look up at him, every now and then nuzzling her face further into the thin fabric of her pants.

Swallowing, and realizing that for some reason, his throat was dry, Gaara stood up suddenly, the curt movement enough to make Sakura jump as well. The look of complete terror on her features was enough to almost make him cringe, turning and walking to the door, swiping his key card, and exiting, he paused briefly, his foot the only thing left to prop the door open. "Sakura… You see that button over there? On the wall. If you need me for anything. Push it." It was a set of simple instructions should anything arise, something that the girl was surely capable of.

_She isn't a fool, she's actually incredibly smart. I've seen it, witnessed it. Don't let her steer you otherwise._

And so, Gaara would, as he always had, trust Shikamaru's judgment.

* * *

His office was set high in the building, where many of the others were located. It was rather plain, despite the fact that he had frequently put in long hours and even spent the night, such was in his job description. The walls were painted a light mix of white and beige, it adorned three circular windows on the outer wall, which was much thicker that the other three, so the windows were pushed into a design that would keep sand from blowing in should they be open. Beyond that, he had a desk positioned before the windows, with a dark, almost reddish wooden finish that gave little character to the room. The single couch, which was hardly a couch, or even a love seat, was set against a wall next to a book shelf, it's beige color made it blend into the wall, if it wasn't for the white pillows set across it, it would have. The only personal things to define the room as his were his jacket, a picture of him, his brother Kankuro, and sister Temari, a glass container of sand, purely for decoration on one end of his desk, and his computer, on the opposite end.

He set his things to the side, the manila folder was thrown onto the center of his desk in a frustrated fashion, and his lab coat was thrown onto the back of the chair as he took his usual seat. The monitor of his computer was on, as it normally was, and it displayed the camera that was focused into Sakura's room. She hadn't moved from her position, the bag of gummy bears went untouched. She looked almost as if she was asleep already, though it was rather difficult to tell with her face hidden from his view so well.

With a long, tired sigh, Gaara leaned back in his chair, picked up the folder, and went through a few tabs until he found the most complex part of this case: the murders.

The problem with Sakura, or Kinari, was that no one actually knew who she was. Given the blood tests, biologically she was the daughter of Kenai and Mari Oshenka. But… She was claiming to be Sakura Haruno. And if that name was made up, it would be okay, it would make a lot more sense.

Except 'Haruno' was the surname of a family that was brutally murdered in the same area Kinari had grown up in. They didn't have a daughter, but Mrs. Haruno was pregnant with a girl. The murders were attributed to Sasuke Uchiha, and that was that, case closed.

"Sasuke Uchiha…" Gaara frowned, turning to face his computer, searching up his name, quietly reading aloud. "Sasuke Uchiha, arrested five years ago for the murders of Kizashi and Mebuki Haruno and their unborn child… he turned himself in after a recorded session alone with his older brother, Itachi Uchiha. Itachi is said to have convinced his brother to turn himself in, pleading guilty to the murders. Sasuke would have been seventeen at the time of the attacks…"

Gaara furrowed his brow, glancing back down to check on Sakura's monitor. She hadn't moved at all yet…

"There's no motive… Not at all." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He couldn't seem to wrap his head around this, if Shikamaru couldn't, then how was he supposed to? Shikamaru was probably one of the smartest in the field… and even he couldn't figure it out.

"You're not a detective, Gaara…" He muttered to himself, "No need to go solving a murder…"

A murder that could well be linked to a string of murders. He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his face into his hands, it seemed that this patient of his didn't have an identity.

_What a mess…_

About four hours later, Gaara's evergreen eyes fluttered open. He groaned softly, that familiar feeling of a bad night's sleep, his muscles aching from an awkward position, and the awkward pattern of the keyboard imprinted onto his face wasn't exactly a combination to a great awakening.

He sat up to study the monitor, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. What he saw made his body freeze and his eyes widen. Sakura was awake, seated rocking herself in a different corner of the room, staring ahead at what she had created. The chair was overturned, as it was when he had left, except it was positioned carefully, the bed, which was perfectly made as well when he had last seen it, looked as if a struggle had occurred on it, the blankets pushed away, one of the pillows lying on the ground, and if he looked closely enough, a little red gummy bear was placed in the center of the mess, lying on its back. Studying the room more closely, the carpeted floor held several more gummy bears, carefully placed, all on their backs, one was placed directly before Sakura, sitting up unlike the rest, and they appeared to be just watching each other.

"What the hell is she doing…?" He stood up after taking a few screenshots from the camera, and then he jogged out of the room and into the hall, leaving his lab coat behind, and just barely remembering to take his key card. No one else was awake to see him running through the building, jog down the stairs, or nearly crash into her door, swiping the card to open it. There she was, sitting in the corner, rocking herself back and forth.

Her gaze shot up as he entered, her eyes widened, and she seemed to freeze like a deer in headlights.

He did just the same, confused as to what to even do, let alone how to comprehend this confrontation.

"Sakura?" He flinched as the door automatically clicked shut behind him, she nodded.

"Gaara?"

He continued to stare at her, tilting his head, "I never told you my name…"

"No. _You _never told me…"

* * *

_**Patient Records:**_

_Murder Investigation # 215_

_Case File #487_

_Status: Closed_

_According to on site crews, Kinari Oshenka was found in her Konoha home on the afternoon of December 21, 2011, her mother, Mari Oshenka (age 40) was found in the bedroom, presumably strangled to death in her bed. Kinari's eldest sister, Hanako Oshenka (age 18) was found stabbed to death in the neighboring room, the fingerprints on the murder weapon, a seven inch long kitchen knife, belonged to the youngest daughter, Kinari Oshenka. Found on the scene covered in her siblings blood, and speaking to herself. The mother appeared to have been strangled, however, no fingerprints were taken off of the victim. The father, Kenai Oshenka (age 43), was nowhere to be found, though his blood was found in the kitchen, and leading out to the back door of the house. He has since been presumed as missing. Several hours after the deaths of Mari and Hanako, a neighbor called the police; "...the door is just wide open, and it's been that way for a few hours. It's just not like them to be so irresponsible…" _

_One squad car showed up to knock, and enter the house, Konoha county investigator Minato Namikaze found the scene, and called upon a larger crime scene unit, and chief forensic investigator, Shikaku Nara. Shikaku experienced, "The most horrible smell of rotting flesh and blood, and even worse the terror hidden in the eyes of an innocently guilty little girl."_

_Photographs from the crime scene taken by Namikaze show an overturned chair, drenched in blood, Kinari Haruno, rocking herself in the corner of the house, and the bed showcasing the body of deceased Mari Oshenka._

_A more detailed description of the pictures and the investigation, as well as investigator testimonies can be found on behalf of Police Commissioner Sakumo Hatake._

* * *

**A/N: The next couple chapters will be interludes: meaning more into the life of "Sakura" and what exactly happened to her, as well as into Gaara and his transitioning into helping people with her problems.**

**As well as an interlude on the murderer.**

**Thank you for reading! Review please! 3**


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm slowly losing my mind…**_

_**I'm pathetic.**_

_**Alone.**_

_**Lost.**_

_**Forgotten.**_

_**Only breathing, not living.**_

_**Mentally Broken.**_

* * *

_He think's I'm some kind of freak. I can see it in his eyes. I scare him. What did I do wrong?_

_I can't speak about what He did. No no no…_

_Shikamaru would be so mad at me…_

_But I need to tell someone. And I did. The gummy bears… And… He thought, thinks, I'm being nuts._

_I am no more crazy than any of them! I didn't want to die…_

_I just know the truth… I'd like to see you live with the truth._

_The truth is a horrible thing to get used to. And it makes my head hurt, throb, ache… Until I keep seeing these things, apparitions, abominations, and in the center of it all…. Him._

_Over, and over, and over, and over, and over…_

_I think He's under the bed._

* * *

_**Audio File:**_

_**Murder Investigation : #215**_

_**Length: 10 min. 26 sec.**_

"_Forensic specialist Shikaku, Nara. Present at site two-fifteen. Three victims of the Oshenka household, ranging in ages from early adolescence to mid-forties. Two deceased, confirmed dead on December, twenty-first, 2011, at 4:34 pm…. The older of the two victims, both of which are female, has a great deal of bruising around the neck and collar area. No fingerprints have been found. And uh-"_

_-coughing-_

"_Uh, we can conclude that the… murderer wore gloves, gloves which were not present in the house. It is believed that the suspect wore these gloves in the kidnapping and potential murder of the woman's husband, however he himself still remains a suspect... The eldest daughter, and the youngest dead has suffered… thirty… seven stab wounds to the abdomen, four to the chest, and also appears to have bruising around the neck… further autopsy will show the cause of death, but it can be presumed that, like the mother, she was suffocated."_

"_The third victim remains alive, displaying odd symptoms of possible head trauma. Upon further investigation, it seems that the youngest daughter, and the lone survivor, was the cause of the second victims stab wounds, holding the knife in question. Further investigations onto the…"_

* * *

"So… Shikamaru must have told you about me then?" Gaara walked into the room, slowly, casually, and as silently as possible, he fixed the chair, and began to clean up the mess of gummy bears.

The air was thick with silence.

And then…

"He did." _It was also on your lab coat._

"I thought he would. Well then, Sakura, right?" Once the chair was upright, and the gummy bears were gone, that is in his pants pocket to later be thrown away, and the bed was straightened out, he took the liberty of sitting down beside her. Watching how, that even at an arm's length away, her frail figure tensed.

"Uh huh…" Her voice was soft, very a whisper. A completely different person than what he had met on his first encounter. This girl was fragile, like a glass doll.

"Sakura, can you tell me what all of that was? Why didn't you eat the gummy bears?"

There was another long pause, and Gaara was worried he may have pried too much too soon.

"You never said I was supposed to eat them, so I spoke with them." She _spoke_ with them?

What the hell did that even mean?

"You spoke… with them? Like we are now? Some kind of… art form? Like your writing?" Gaara was already beginning to lose hope, but, this was something. Though he had that odd feeling that she was playing with her words to beat around something- her main objective versus his.

Shouldn't they be the same thing? To get her help.

Did insane people actually want to receive help?

"Uh huh…" She grimaced, the expression coming after he brought up the mention of art.

"You don't like art?"

"I don't like what this art portrays."

"And what is that?"

"…..Me."

"Sakura?"

"No."

"Kinari?"

"You ask too many questions, Gaara." Oddly enough, there was a small smile on her lips, though she wasn't looking at him, she had a gummy bear, presumably the last one in her collection, resting face up in the palm of her pale, boney hand.

"He said… Kinari died a long while ago, and so should any thought of her."

So is this where she invented Sakura?

"Alright, well, does that-"

"I'm hungry…"

Gaara sighed, they had been doing so well, he thought, to actually be getting her to talk, to get information. He did hear that a lot of it was thanks to Shikamaru, before him, she had refused to even utter a word, let alone have a mini conversation such as this.

"The cafeteria should be serving breakfast soon, I can take you there, if that's what you want?" Sakura peeked up at him, slowly moving her head in a nod. Her fingers curled around the gummy bear in a fist, before her arms moved out in front of her body, and she crawled towards him, stuffing the gummy bear into his pocket with the others in a childlike fashion.

He studied her, nodding and clearing his throat when she peered back up into his eyes questioningly, "Okay then, let's get going."

He stood up, offering his hand to her, for a little while she sat, slumped against the carpet, staring at his pale digits in a curious fashion. He was beginning to think that she wouldn't take it, and was about to end the awkward encounter by moving to the exit alone, but she seemed to develop the courage by then to grasp his hand, letting herself be pulled up.

He felt sick at how little she weighed. Like a bird.

It was still early, so many of the hallways in the building were deserted, the short walk down to the elevator, and then from there to the cafeteria on the main floor felt like an eternity.

On the small occasion when they did see some unfamiliar face, he noticed how she seemed to cling to him whenever they passed by, cowering almost from existence.

Then he remembered… she was Anthropophobic; in other words, she was afraid of people.

Especially when they all looked the same… Meaning, their dress.

And he wasn't wearing his lab coat. He looked down at the black shirt, then to her, he should have guessed it before. All the yelling and screaming, and then the sudden calm on their next encounter. Shikamaru must have worn something similar when meeting her.

But why didn't he ever tell Gaara that?

Gaara shook his head of the thought, Shikamaru had given him so much advice, he could have forgotten such an obvious detail. He should have been more careful with the way he presented himself to someone like this: lesson learned. Now at least he knew why she was acting so different, and that she wasn't as bi-polar as he once thought.

With that cleared up, Gaara felt a bit more confident walking into the cafeteria; a large, plain white room with bland, but plenty food choices. Bland as in tasteless, and plenty as in to accommodate all of the special diets here. You'd be surprised at all of the different nutritional needs that mental patients need.

"Getmeyogurt." The pink haired girl took off like a frightened animal, taking a seat in the far corner, giving the guards a wary look, as they returned it. Sighing at the thrown together sentence, Gaara complied, unsure if this was even in his job description.

Coming back with a small bowl of plain yogurt and some fruit in a separate bowl on the side, he sat down across from her, causing her to jump. He clenched his jaw, refraining from saying anything comforting. He had learned from many of the other patience that that would never work in certain situations, and in public was one of them.

He pushed the tray to her, along with a spoon. She didn't touch it at all.

"You must eat… too?" She spoke as if she had trouble formulating the sentence, as if she had recently had a stroke, though Gaara knew she hadn't. Her mind must just be somewhere else.

Since there was no use in explaining that it was four in the morning and that he wasn't hungry at all, Gaara stood to get something to eat, out of his options, he came back with a simple cinnamon roll. He was a sucker for sweet things, and since she was going to insist on him eating… May as well be something he would enjoy.

Sakura's pale lips pressed together as Gaara sat down with his newly put together plate, eyeing the pastry in distrust, and then doing the same with her yogurt and fruit. Gaara watched as she slowly, very carefully, picked up about a grain of rice sized amount of yogurt, and proceeded to place it between her lips.

No wonder she was so underweight. She looked like a bird because she ate like one.

Watching her eat only made him not want too, how could she even survive while eating so little? His close analysis brought in more of her design, things that he hadn't noticed before, things that came with being able to see her up close. The deep bags under her eyes, from her insomnia most likely. The paleness of her skin, sure, he was pale, but not sickly pale. She looked as if she were about to drop dead. Her hair hadn't been brushed in what looked to be years. The dye in it ended after a few inches from her scalp, revealing the very light brown shade of her natural hair color. Every few seconds, her green hues would dart from side to side, then she would take another minimal bite from her still full bowl of yogurt. It didn't even look as if she had been given the opportunity to bathe either…

She had to have, though, right? Shikamaru wouldn't have allowed that in Konoha.

But then again, Shikamaru had a lot of patients, being as highly regarded as he was, and he also probably had a lot more to deal with, let alone care for an individual's miniscule needs. He probably had others that were meant to do it, but obviously, they didn't do a great job. Or her fear of people wouldn't allow them too.

_Or he didn't care…_

"Eat." Gaara blinked, focusing his eyes back onto the task at hand, "huh? Not until you start. You haven't even made a dent in that… eat a spoonful and a strawberry, at least."

Sakura stared at him, furrowing her brows as he looked back down at the bowl, as if he was asking her to eat tar.

She set the spoon down, and went for the strawberry, which probably took another thirty minutes or so for her to devour. Then, more people began to flood the cafeteria, and she stopped eating altogether.

Realizing her fear for the third time that day, Gaara stood up, murmuring in what he hoped was a comforting way, that they should head back to her room. Sakura didn't hesitate to follow, seemingly relieved to get away from the stress.

"I want to be alone now." Gaara blinked in surprise, turning to face Sakura, they had not even been in the room for more than two minutes, and she was already asking him to leave. "Rest…"

She wanted to rest… That was it.

"Oh, alright… If you need-"

"Push the button."

"Right…" Gaara sighed, moving to leave her alone yet again. He had so much planned for the day, and so much to figure out. While this turn of events did lessen his work load for the day, it also snuffed out the possibility for any potential information he could have gotten out of her.

Such as the gummy bear incident.

With nothing left to be said, the two parted ways, Gaara to his office a few stories up, and Sakura to her bed, a few feet away.

He didn't realize it, but it was already noon by the time he had returned to his office and written down the notes for the day. He needed to keep a detailed description of what she did, how he reacted, how she reacted. This all included what she ate, how much, if the stairs posed any difficulty for her, if she looked fatigued than would be normal… Anything that could be observed was written down. It was a tiring task of memory, and of extreme detail where detail wasn't required to such an extreme. And yet, it was necessary at the same time.

He only recognized the passing of time by the growling of his stomach. That cinnamon roll had never been touched, as before he was far too engrossed in making sure Sakura actually ate, rather than his own meal.

And now it was about lunch time…

About a half hour later, Gaara stood outside Sakura's door, knocking to at least alert her of a presence, and then opening the door with some difficulty. It took a swipe of the key card, while both of his hands were busy holding two different food trays, so, in order to prevent from dropping them, he did what any other good doctor with his PHD: he grabbed the card between his teeth, and swiped it that way. Not once did it occur for him to set the trays on the ground, then open the door.

At least he managed to amuse Sakura as he came in, the card still stuck in his mouth.

"Having fun?" She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows up and down playfully from her seat at the edge of the bed.

"Eh?" Gaara blinked, a light pink tone covering his cheeks out of embarrassment. She was teasing him, and he did not cope well with teasing.

Still smiling, Sakura stood up, plucking the key card out of his mouth rather rudely, frowning when she realized that the little rope attached to it was also around his neck. She gave it a couple experimental tugs, earning a halfhearted glare from the male.

"Really?"

"Yep."

He was beginning to wonder if this was a good thing, that more and more of her personality was beginning to peak through, even in such a short amount of time together. He did remember hearing from Shikamaru that she liked to play games… And that she liked to cause mischief.

_Note to self… keep the key card away from her…_

"Why is your hair so red?" She was sitting in the chair now, backwards so she could rest her chin on her folded arms, staring up at him with a large, childish green gaze.

"Why is your hair so pink?" He retorted, the color from his cheeks only now beginning to recede as he set the trays on the bed. One was for her, a few thin slices of chicken, cheese, and a not-so-appetizing looking green smoothie. Honestly, he had only gotten it because she needed the nutrients from the fruit and vegetables that were in it, and it didn't taste as bad as it looked.

"Because, my name is Sakura. What does Gaara have to do with the color red?" He glanced over to her for a moment, then back to the food, shaking his head. "It doesn't…"

"Oh yea? Then what about that tattoo?"

For the second time that day, Gaara didn't eat his meal.

* * *

**A/N I was going to put Gaara's interlude in with this chapter, but I had an Idea with it... Sooo, next chapter, will be Gaara and Sakura's pasts. Thank you for reading! Review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**_"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell…"_**

* * *

It had been one week since their first encounter, one week since Gaara was assigned to the girl nicknamed 'the lost cause,' one week…

One long, exhausting, horrifying week.

And after that second day, it seemed that their progress had been hemmed.

He had assumed that much, it was ignorant to believe that she was actually opening up. Her behavior, as in, her personality, was a lie.

She had dissociative identity disorder, or multiple personalities. Which seemed to be the conflict between Kinari and Sakura. What was so special, was that both Kinari, and Sakura, were real people.

But… To see her change sporadically, so often, even with this knowledge, it was just simply exhausting.

What was worse, he had no clue where to start in helping her. Sure. There were clues, set like a scatterplot. Trying to make sense of it all when there was no real pattern. They were trying to draw facts from fiction, despite just how hopeless this was, Gaara couldn't just give up. There was always an answer, always a way, always a loophole or a backdoor.

The human mind was indeed complex, but there was just so much to be learned from this…

How could they just toss her aside like that?

_"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"_ Shattered glass, and raining sand.

The results of that once decorative jar of white smashing against the beige wall of his office.

_Who?_

"Sakura…"

_Shikamaru.._

_"_Get out of my head…" The laptop screen was slammed shut, a finalizing touch to the flare of anger that had erupted from the red head like a volcano.

_But **I **am **you.**_

Silence.

Deafening.

His ears hurt. His temples. His mind ached, like a lasso stretched around it, and was pulling, further and further away, just waiting for him to finally snap…

Gaara took a sharp inhale of cool air, once, twice, and then a third time, his shaking fists settling by his sides as he relaxed once more, unwinding enough to lean back in the desk chair.

He hated that voice, he always had. It was, as Shikamaru had once told him, a remnant of his father, lodged in his memory from years of trauma. Sometimes, when his temper was triggered, that voice managed to plague his thoughts again.

His therapy?

Exercise.

Running was his preferred form, if not for the obvious health benefits, but for the fact that it allowed him to clear his mind, to empty it of all of the bad thoughts, to picture every conflict as a new door, in a long hallway. And in his hands, a set of dozens of keys. He had the power to unlock them. But that was up to him and himself alone…

_"What happens when I can't figure out what key is for which door?"_

_Shikamaru sat across from him, feet swung up onto the desk lazily, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, unlit. "You have all the keys don't you?"_

_"But if they all look the same?"_

_Shikamaru chuckled softly, his seemingly amused eyes falling shut, "Bummer, when that happens, isn't it? You tell me, Gaara. Do you break down the door anyway, or do you try the keys until one of them works? Sometimes… That's what life is. It's a pain in the ass. But, you can't expect your problem to be solved without some sort of… resistance. Retaliation. Like an obstacle. Sometimes you might even realize that your 'problem' door, might actually be the one solution you needed. And with the effort, searching for the right key, you could find gold."_

_"And if it doesn't exist?"_

_"If it does?" The dark haired male lifted a brow, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a smirk. _

_"I don't like to place my bets on 'if's' and 'what if's.'"_

_"Then stop missing the point, you're acting like there's no point. I told you the point, the point is life. This is living. You open doors, and you close doors. Sometimes you walk until your feet bleed to find the right door." _A drawn out sigh, relaxing once more._ "This metaphor is getting old... Gaara. You need to find a reason. To live. That's your motivation to open and close those doors. Otherwise, you aren't living. You're just dying."_

During these early morning runs, Gaara often reminisced to the past. He thought about things, sometimes too much. Trying too hard to wrap his mind around something that was as simple as it was complex- why live?

Why exist?

Why help someone who couldn't be saved?

Why fight a fight that no one would win?

In the beginning, he thought it was the right thing to do, and then, he even went on to think that it would make his career should he accomplish success.

Now, he was starting to see it as Shikamaru's laziness being dumped onto his shoulders. This girl had plenty of issues, some just breaching the surface, others obvious. But what she needed more than anything, was a caretaker. Someone to ensure that she ate, bathed, slept. Because she didn't seem to care.

She wasn't living.

She wasn't opening any new doors.

She was like he was once, stuck in the hallway.

Gaara had found his reason to live, and that was to help people that have suffered as he had. To be some sort of… guiding light in their ominous pit of darkness.

But, he also understood reality.

He was no saint. He wasn't a messiah or some holy figure to look up to. He was a doctor, a psychologist, a therapist, a…. janitor.

Bottom line, he was receiving cases he couldn't handle at his level. Cases no one could figure out. He couldn't help them. He can't help her.

And above all of his demons, above everything, that he hated the most.

So instead of trying to figure her out… He had something else in mind. He would nurture her.

Because at the end of the day, only she could unlock her doors.

With this new objective in mind, and a certain clarity coming over him in a wave of relief and relaxation, Gaara jogged back to the "asylum," through security, and straight for her room. It was breakfast time…

Clad in his running shoes, a black under-armor shirt, and sweating like he had just left a sauna, he entered her room.

Or… No. That wasn't right. Where…?

He laughed.

There was one problem. He didn't have his keycard with him…

Oh, the irony.

* * *

Less than ten minutes later, he was back, breathing rather heavily, from running, no doubt. Fumbling with the card until he managed to unlock her door, listening impatiently as the mechanics clicked and unlocked, the door popping open from its frame.

"Fuck are- What?"

She stood there. Nose to nose with him. Right where the door had been.

"Don't curse."

His jaw fell open, a meek attempt to defend himself, though unable to draw up any phrase to compete. "I… You, but… Why?"

"Because, I don't appreciate vulgar language." She stared at him, almost cockily, folding her arms and shifting her weight onto one leg. "Its rude, you know. And unprofessional."

"N-no… I mean…" He sighed, pointing over her shoulder and back into the room. "Back up? Please."

After staring for a moment longer, unamused, she shrugged and shrunk back into the space, seating herself on the chair. "You're late… You smell. You look different… You didn't comb your hair or try to cover your tattoo, you're not wearing white… Am I in trouble?"

And just like that, she was completely surprising him, again. Was he really that easy to read?

"I…"

Was he the patient here? No. Take control… Gaara.

"No. You aren't… It's time to eat. Breakfast, remember?"

His attempt to salvage his composure wasn't going unnoticed, nor did it seem to work.

"You've never been late. Did something happen?" Sakura wasn't looking at him any longer, staring at the bed. "I don't want to eat… Come. Sit."

The worst part of his profession, was that he couldn't argue with a patient. Like customers in a store, they were always 'right.'

And so he crossed the room, making sure the door shut behind him, and sat on the bed. "Yes?"

"I want Chinese… and sushi, and ice cream. Strawberry, ice cream. I want to cut my hair. I want more hair dye, I want to get new clothes, and I want to go to a fair. I want cotton candy, and I want to go to high school. I want to know what is going on, and why I'm stuck here. I want to be free. I want to be a nurse. I want Shikamaru. I want Him to go away, and I want you to be a fucking doctor for once and make the dreams go away."

As she spoke, without running out of breath or skipping a beat, his eyes widened, evergreen hues boring into her.

"You… made a bucket list?"

She finally cracked a realistic grin, that of the girl he had gotten to know in the past few days, giving him an excited nod. Even though a portion of her list did disturb him. When she nodded enthusiastically, like a child being offered ice cream, he nodded as well, setting his palms against his knees.

"Well… Okay. Okay, yea. That's fine… we can… tackle the smaller things first, okay? Do me a favor." He picked up the journal that she was always writing in, was about to hand it to her, but before he could even continue what he was saying, she let out a sort of battle cry and, literally, tackled him.

He huffed softly, wincing a little when his back met the cheap mattress, staring up at the pink haired girl in shock, just as she pried the book from his hand.

Note to self- don't touch the journal.

"Sakura?"

She was practically straddling his torso, hugging the journal to her chest, head tilted down far enough that her hair shadowed her eyes, concealing her expression.

This was not going to look very good on cameras.

"Sakura… I need you to, uh… get off of me. Please…?"

There was no response. Aside from the gentle rocking motion her body moved in, a natural means of self comfort.

Oh God, that really wasn't going to look good on cameras…

"Sakura, look at me…" Just stay calm, just stay calm… Comfrot her. She's just afraid…

"Look at me, Sakura, it's okay…" He lifted a hand cautiously, letting his pale digits rest against her cheek, taking note of the slight flinch. She knew he was there. She was still aware, that was a good sign. So was the fact that she was letting him this close.

Progress.

"Now, look at me…" He repeated those words, repetition was known to calm anxiety, or at least, it was meant to. Gently, he tipped her chin up, gaining view of her facial features again, a droplet contacting with his thumb.

Water? Oh…

Her eyes were filled with tears, pained tears. She stared at him, her shoulders beginning to sag, and shake. When their eyes made contact, she lost her fight. The tears came freely, but she still didn't make a sound. No, instead, she fell forward, her forehead onto his shoulder, sobbing into it quietly.

She didn't cry for long, much to his surprise. She was done in a few seconds, but remained there, sniffling softly, his mind reeling on how to approach this situation for the long haul. Because honestly, he didn't know what the fuck was going on…

"You stink…"

Her voice was a small whisper, mumbled into his shirt. Gaara exhaled slowly, closing his eyes with a nod.

"Yea. I guess we both should shower first."

… She was giving him that look, he had known her for a week. And already, he had picked out her "did you really just say that?" look.

"Not together!" His cheeks were beginning to burn, the corner of her lips twitching upwards, into a smirk.

"I was going to say we should eat first…"

* * *

_He almost found out. Gaara did. I don't like him. But I do. He isn't like the others, like Shikamaru was. He doesn't think the same. He… _

_He isn't a hundred percent set on figuring me out, now its like… he's trying to just, take care of me. Physically. Rather than mentally. Why? I don't know. But it's nice. It's nice to have someone that reminds me, to eat. To lecture me, on the importance. And while it's nice, it is, he's being such a hypocrite._

_Everyone here knows he's hurting. You don't have to be sane to know that._

_Something inside of him isn't right. He's going to slowly fade away. I think Shikamaru knew it too, he spoke of something, something similar. I made a decision, then, to do as he does. As Gaara does. I'm not going to worry about Him or Shikamaru, or anything. I'm going to take care of him. Make sure he eats, and sleeps, and wears the correct clothes._

_Because seriously, he looked ridiculous in the running uniform. The lab coat doesn't suit him either, so I guess new clothes are in order. _

_He smells like sand._

"Sakura? It's time.." There was a light knock on her door, twice, with only one knuckle…

She could see his exact expression, the way he carried himself, and the hesitation he held in opening the door, even though he was the only one who could open it. He was a funny person, to Sakura, and honestly, she loved to figure people out.

She was good at reading them, figuring out quirks, and the like.

Gaara Saihara was no different.

In about two seconds he'd mumble, unconsciously, that he was coming in. Like it mattered, what did he think? That she's naked in here?

In about four, she'd hear the swipe and light clicking sounds from his keycard, and in five, he would be standing there. No longer in a lab coat or an ugly runners uniform, but…

She was pleasantly surprised, even if the blank look on her face didn't show it. He was dressed, rather nicely.

Black and red suited him very well, in fact, his choice in the colors seemed to hint at some darker side… a side Sakura was more than willing to find out about.

Because of course, he wasn't the one that was going to figure her out, she was the one trying to figure him out.

"Why are you staring at me?" He raised a brow at her, quizzically, self consciously rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you ready? You didn't forget, did you?"

Sakura, ever the sarcastic one, blinked once, twice, and then shrugged, looking back to her writing. "I think you're early. Your hair is still wet."

"Well I did just shower…" His mumble was of self defense, a trait she noticed more often than not. He was always defending himself. Always on the defensive. She could only imagine what he would do on the other end of the spectrum.

Closing the book, she stood up, wandering over to him, taking in more of his dress.

His undershirt was black, long sleeved, most likely to protect from the desert sun. Over top of that, he had on a red shirt, a pair of dark gray, casual jeans, black shoes… It was almost as if he was going for a bad boy look.

She giggled at the thought, mentally drawing in smudged eyeliner around his eyes.

"Why are you laughing…?"

"Hmn? No reason… Can we go to a makeup store too?"

For the first time, or for what felt like the first time, she saw a huge change in his persona. A smug, cocky expression washed over his features, and he stepped aside to let her through the door.

"I have plans… just hurry up. I'm not really supposed to be allowing this."

* * *

A red headed male paced along the city gates, waiting, though it felt like he had been waiting forever. Sand shifted beneath his feet in an uncomfortable fashion, his lazy gray eyes wandering across the desert horizon. A figure, cloaked in black began an approach, causing the pale ginger to stiffen, ready for any possible attack.

"You're Deidara's friend?" The unknown man stopped, dropping his hood to reveal raven black hair, and even darker onyx eyes. "Sasori."

"I… Yes, you are?"

"I do not expose that information. All you need to know, is here. And, your first pay, as well."

The man handed over a black duffel bag, one that could be used for the gym, or other excursions. "Your instructions are there. We will not be in direct contact. You will speak to me indirectly, through Deidara."

"Instructions? Look, I don't think you understand, Deidara just told me to wait here. I'm not a… whatever you are… What is this? Some kind of… gang? I'm just-"

"We need you because you bear similarities to a certain person. We only need you to be seen at a certain place, at a certain time. That is all you will be needed for. Your instructions are inside."

The man frowned, studying the other in disapproval. "You have a very simple task, Sasori. If it is not completed, I will hunt you down. Personally. Do not make this personal."

With nothing left to say, the man in black continued on his walk, past the red head, and into the city of sand.

* * *

**WOOOOOO! I'M BACK! **

**So, this was extremely fun to write. As always, please leave a review. I love hearing from you guys.**

**And as a bit of incentive...**

**Poll: What couple would be cool to see while Gaara and Sakura are out and about?**

**A. Naru/Hina **

**B. Shika/Tema (this would be so awkward...)**

**C. Tenten/Neji (meh... I mean I guess.)**

**D. Kiba and Akamaru because there is nothing cuter than a boy and his dog tbh.**

**E. Kakashi. -Because its Kakashi.-**


End file.
